Hush
by Leanan Sidhe
Summary: Retelling of Don't Say a Word from Jessie's view if she were sixteen years old. Rated mostly for language. And just so's ya know's I don't own diddly squat of the characters
1. Default Chapter

I tried to go to sleep, but that was hard. I was singing tomorrow on my own float in the Thanksgiving Day parade. I mean.that could seriously inflate your ego. I shut my eyes, humming the tunes I was going to sing, softly:  
I'm standing on a bridge  
I'm waiting in the dark  
I thought that you'd be here by now  
There's nothing but the rain  
No footsteps on the ground  
I'm listening but there's no sound  
  
My eyes snapped open in alarm. I sat up, scanning the darkened room in a panic. I had heard a sound, unlike Avril, and it didn't sound right. A sound like someone purposefully trying to be quiet, a shuffling of silent footsteps, and a slightly hushed sound of someone breathing.  
The sound stopped. I had held my own breath and only now let it escape my mouth in the form of a relieved sigh. My muscles relaxed, yet still faintly on guard, but all the same sleep had come for me. Pulling at my lids. Telling me to sleep, "There's nothing there.go to sleep."  
My eyes were nearly closed when I saw the shadows move in on me.but they weren't shadows. My eyes widened in terror as a black hand covered my mouth. Now, several things happened at once. First of all two very large rough hands bound my own with a very grating piece of rope. I was frantically trying to kick out at the dark moving shapes. I heard the man grunt at his attempts at dodging my flying legs. It was then that I bit the other man's hand over my mouth. The hand was removed instantly. I opened my mouth to scream..too late a firm hand slipped over my mouth again only this time the person wore leather gloves. I began to breathe furiously through my nose.  
A soft, slightly chilling British voice whispered in my ear, "You can make yourself faint that way, and we wouldn't want that now would we?" I bit his hand in response, but he merely said, "Please, this is expensive leather."  
The voice picked me up, nearly getting a kick to his head, but a strong arm wrapped around my legs, stopping them from reaching their target. My hands, which were now tied together, were slipped over his head so that my arms hung around his neck. I would be able to untangle myself from him and escape.  
They had filed into the hallway of the apartment. We passed my parents room. If only I could make some noise, any noise.  
"Don't." Came the whispered reply. I stopped from shock and stupidity ( which I suffer from on more than one occasion ) I tried to turn my head to see whoever had a hold of me. He was wearing a black hat over his head with holes for his eyes. They were grey blue in color, like a stormy sea.  
Shit! If he thought I was going to go along with this he was sadly freaking mistaken! I threw all my body wheight against him. He staggered against the wall, nearly dropping me and banging my head against the wall in the process. Before I could deal my second attack he had handed me over to the large Hell's Angel behind me. In the next second he had shifted his hand to cover my nose as well as my mouth.  
I struggled in the biker's grasp, heaving for a breath of air. I thrashed my head wildly from side to side, his hand stayed immobile. My vision swam before my eyes, it blurred like a crummy t.v. reception. That was all I remembered, that is until I woke up tied to a fairly uncomfortable chair, with a killer headache.  
  
I opened my eyes slowly, my vision still unclear, misty like sea foam. I blinked once, twice. My brain felt sluggish and my head was heavy. I fought to keep my eyes open and not to slip back into that empty darkness.  
Shapes, dark shapes moved around the corners of my eyes. Soft murmurs. I couldn't hear properly. One shadow came closer, not a shadow. a man or at least I thought he was a man.maybe a monster. He stood over me.  
"Ah, awake at last I see!" He said but the words ran together, echoing after each other, but with each word spoken my hearing cleared. I strained my eyes to do the same, the images sharpening to reveal a lamp. A piano. Windows and sunlight. Just dawn perhaps, maybe a little after. My eyes scanned the room to see it was antiquely decorated, some place a grandma would live.  
My eyes traveled to a corner where the Hell's Angel was leaning casually in. Tattoo's lined his muscular arms going all the way up to his neck. His long coarse hair traveled down to the middle of his back, pulled back into a pony tail. Charming. The third man was the one I had bitten. His dark complexion made it hard not to miss him. He had cornrows and I thought vaguely that he looked good wearing a tan cashmere long sleeved shirt. He was sitting in front of three computers and one tv, watching the Sports Channel.  
Then there was the man in front of me. He had somewhat spikey dirty sand colored hair, occasionally it would slip over his eyes. His eyes were a grey blue. My own eyes widened a bit in surprise, this was the one who had carried me down the hall and then tried to suffocate me. I continued my inspection. He wore all black. A black long sleeved shirt and black Kakis completed the ensemble. He pulled up a chair and sat in front of me and stared, seeming to thing I'd have something to say.  
I did. "Why?" Was all I could ask, my voice thick with icy tones.  
He leaned back in his seat, "Oh I don't think you should trouble yourself with the reason. Just know that you are in a dangerous situation. Do as we say and we just might not kill ya."  
There it was again, that lilting foreign accent. It sounded like a British accent but there was a sound underneath it.a faint Irish one too. Damn! I had a weakness for Irish men but in this instance, I thought I could make an exception.  
His brow furrowed in what looked like concern but it carried a smirk in it's features. His hand reached out to my face. I tried to pull back in disgust but I remembered I was still tied to the chair, when the ropes burned my wrists. He brushed away a few tendrils of my hair.  
"Oooo," he hissed in fake regret, "That looks painful. Does it hurt?" His finger touched a spot right above my right eye. A sharp stab of hot pain followed that and I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out.  
"I see it does." He replied softly. From up his sleeve he pulled out a hankerchief. I raised my eyebrow.  
"You never know when you might need to gag someone." Was his only explanation.  
"It would have come in handy earlier," I said dryly, "before your henchman over there," I cocked my head to the one watching soccer, "lost one of his fingers."  
"Indeed?" He asked mockingly, dipping the hanky in a glass of water by his feet. He then dabbed it to my forehead. What the Hell was this?!! He was healing me?! What gives?!!  
"Yes, I suppose so," he continued, dipping it into the water, "but it would not have stifled your screams as well as a hand." He raised his own hand to demonstrate.  
"I remember all too clearly." I retorted sharply.  
He chuckled lightly.  
He continued to wipe away the dried blood from the wound on my head, in silence.  
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.  
"What?" His hands still moving from the water glass to my head.  
"Why are you.curing me? You couldn't give a damn if I was in pain."  
He stopped and seemed to think for a moment. Then he pulled his hand back and stood up.  
"Probably because I don't want my only bartering chip damaged, that wouldn't suit well with your father." He walked over to the window pulling the heavy drapes back to look out the window.  
What did my father have to do with this? Ransom? Possibly, but this seemed more thought out than your typical kidnapping. No. Something bigger was happening here. I shook my head trying to clear it all of the jumbling images and thoughts and focused my eyes on where I was.  
It was as I said before, the house that seemed to belong to an old married couple than to these gentlemen. I tried to turn in my chair to look behind me. Dishes and broken glass were strewn about the floor. A struggle. Oh god, this was someone else's apartment!  
"Where are they?" I asked the man by the curtains.  
He let the drape drop back into place and turned to face me.  
"Who?"  
"Where are the people who lived here?"  
He paused.  
"I don't think you want to know the answer to that question of yours."  
He was right. I didn't. I shifted uncomfortably in the chair.  
"Oh yes," The man said walking toward me, "So sorry about the binding but we can't very well have you running out on us.can we?"  
"I suppose not." I sighed.  
"But don't fear Little One, we'll untie you before you talk to your father."  
I raised my hopes..  
"But no more than a few words."  
.only to have them come crashing down. Oh yeah this was a Ransom, same stupid ass rules.  
"Until then, if you're a good girl you can watch TV." He said picking up the remote.  
I brightened a little at this.  
"Channel 33." I said.  
He raised an eyebrow.  
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer." I stated.  
The man at the table watching soccer gave a call over his shoulder, "Fuck no! Man the game just started! I am not going to stop watching this just so the little bitchy princess can watch some peroxide Spike show his pecs!"  
I don't know why I did but a laugh bubbled up inside me, bursting from my lips to echo loudly in the room. The guy watching the sports turned to look at me, then rolled his eyes, "Damn, I do not need this shit this early in the morning."  
I snickered trying to prevent laughter.  
"Now that's enough out of the both of you." The man with the blue eyes said.  
I doubled over in a fit of giggles, tears streaming down my cheeks. I have often been prey to a series of laughing fits, some of which last up to thirty minuets. Hell I was in trouble if this was one of those. I usually got them when I was scared, then the tears and the sobs would come after. I didn't want to cry in front of these men. Someone had to stop this.  
With a tired sigh the blue eyed man pulled out a gun. My laughter stopped abruptly.  
Hell that worked.  
"Please try to keep it down Little One, we don't want anyone to know you're here. Rule #1 you do not speak louder than this," he said whispering slightly, "Rule #2 you do not try and contact anyone."  
"And what's Rule #3?" I asked softly  
"Follow the Rules." 


	2. Names and the Rules of the Game

An hour passed in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The erie quiet would sometimes be broken by the colorful language of the man with the cornrows as his team missed another goal. I couldn't take this tense quiet anymore. It was like a jack in the box about to spring. I needed to speak, to have some words to hold on to in this sea of silence.  
"What are your names?"  
I had increased the silence instead of destroying it. They seemed taken aback by my innocent question. Cornrow dude turned in his chair, creaking in the still air. He had muted the tv. My ears buzzed.  
"Why do you want to know?" Blue eyed angel asked.  
"Well...I can't keep calling him Cornrow Dude," I said nodding to him.  
"Ah hell's no! She did not just call me..!"  
"And I can't keep calling him Mr. Hell's Angel."  
Hell's Angel merely glared in response.  
"And what is my name, Little One?" The blue eyed one asked chucking.  
"My secret." I muttered.  
"Pardon me, what was that?"  
"My secret." I said louder, my blood rushing to my face. Hadn't I just called him a blue eyed angel? Like I was gonna tell my captor that! Get real!  
He nodded, "Mikes," he said gesturing to the Hell's Angel, "Brad."  
"Call me B." The man at the computer said.  
"And.." I raised an eyebrow, "What is your name?"  
"My secret."  
Damn bastard.  
"Fair enough." I replied.  
His watch beeped  
"Lights, camera, action." He whispered. "Mikes!" He called.  
Mikes approached me, looking tall and intimidating. He took out a pocket knife, my eyes widened...he cut the bonds. "Thanks." I said, rubbing my wrists down. I had lost the circulation in them. I stood slowly and stretched, feeling as if I hadn't moved in ages.  
"Take a seat, my dear. The show will start any moment now." The unnamed one said gesturing to the chair next to B. I sat down cautiously, not knowing what to expect. I certainly didn't expect this. The three computer screens were filled with smaller screens that showed all the rooms in my apartment.  
"Oh my god." I breathed.  
The blue eyed one, stood behind me and leaning down next to me he said, "Amazing, isn't it? You have to wonder what more do we know of you? How long have we watched you?"  
"How long?" I asked dumbly still looking at the screen.  
A quick glance at me, "Long enough, Little One. Long enough."  
My father came on the screen in my parents room, he looked crushed. He had something in his hand. I gave a start as I realized what it was. It was my green stone bracelet. I looked down at my bare wrist. It must have come off in the struggle.  
"Aha, here's the man of the hour!" The blue eyed man said smiling.  
I watched as he told my mother brokenly that someone had cut the chain on the door and that I was gone. Mother started to cry, saying it wasn't true, that I was just in the hall or something getting a coke. Then as it hit here, when she saw the bracelet she told him to call the police through her tears.  
"And we're on in 3..2..1!" B said counting down on his fingers.  
I watched as my father picked up the phone. His voice was hoarse with pain, "I can't get a dialtone. There's something wrong with the phone."  
"There is nothing wrong with the phone, Nathan." Came the chilling British reply. I turned to see the unnamed man talking on a cell, seeing me staring he winked.  
"This is an emergency, goddamnit!" My father screamed.  
"You see I know."  
My father's face froze and a look filled his features. It's the look someone get's when they get a picture in focus only to see the image and be afraid of it. Without knowing it my hand had out stretched to the screen that showed my father. I pressed my hand to the screen. He was right there, right in front of my eyes and I could not reach him all the same. It hit me then that this might be the last time I ever saw him. I pulled my hand back sharply, feeling as if I had received a dangerous electrical shock.  
"Who are you?" My father asked.  
"We have your daughter." My captor smirked and walked over to the window and looked out, "What's your worst fear, Nathan?"  
My father also stumbled to his own window, "Wha...What? My worst what?"  
"I hear that the first shock can buckle the knees, is there any truth in that?"  
My father looked completely lost, helpless. I had never seen him like this and it frightened me. The blue eyed one was playing with him, he was having fun watching the pain he caused.  
"Stop it!" I hissed at him. He turned to me with an angry look in his eyes. They were saying clearly, "Let me have my sport!" I turned back to the screen, just as my captor turned back to the phone.  
"I want something from you." He said.  
My father's face became hard and sharp. He stood up straight. "No."  
"What?!"  
"Not until I speak to my daughter."  
"Rule #1 Nathan, you do not make demands, you'll do what I tell you!" His voice began to sound impatient, and that was a dangerous emotion.  
Dad's voice shook slightly, "You can call me back when I can speak to my daughter."  
He then hung up the phone.  
Dial tone....I began to smile.  
I heard a cold voice next to me, "Your father just did a very unwise thing."  
I turned to meet the cold blue depths, "Yes very unwise." I agreed, "Or very brave."  
"Very brave indeed." He replied coldly. In the next second he had pulled me out of the chair and keeping a firm grip on my wrist he put he cell phone in it. He pressed a button and the phone began to ring. Speed dial. (Ok that was so unfair, I was a sixteen year old girl and I couldn't have speed dial, but this freak could?!) It had barely rung one time when my father answered it and said shakily, "Hello?"  
"Way to go dad!" I told him smiling.  
"Jessie, are you alright? Have they hurt you?" Dad choked out.  
"No, not at all," Not yet, I thought bitterly. "I'm..." Scared to death, hungry, strangely excited, afraid, terrified? "..ok. I'm ok."  
The one with the blue eyes, started to take the phone, I clutched at it. His grip on my wrist tightened.  
"I love you. I'm fine. Really."  
Then it was gone. I stood in shock for a moment or two. I felt that if I moved I would lose the last of my mental strength, break down and cry.  
The blue eyed one was leaning against the window frame again, "That was very brave, Nathan."  
I walked back to the computer screens to watch my father. He was pacing the room like a caged lion.  
"I'll give you as much money as you want." He said desperately.  
"I don't want your money, Nathan."  
It was erie to see and hear my father, and see and hear my captor at the same time. It was almost as if I was stuck in between the ticks of the clock, trapped in some kind of nexus.  
The blue eyed man continued, "You are currently treating a patient by the name of Elizabeth Burrows, a very disdurbed girl. She has a six digit number locked away in her troubled mind, she guards it with her life."  
"What kind of number?" My father asked.  
"That needn't concern you, right now. I need that number. You need your daughter back. That's why this is happening."  
My mother collapsed on her side, crying to my father to let her speak to me. It unnerved me. Mother's leg was propped up, it was still in a cast from the skiing accident she had had earlier this year. The blue eyed man came over behind me watching the screens as well.  
"Pick up your wife before she breaks the other leg." Came the British reply.  
I saw my father rush to the bed and set my mother up right. I saw it hit him then, he knew he was being watched. He got up slowly and moved to the window, beginning to close the curtains.  
"Don't close them. I like the view."  
My father stopped.  
"I can see you. Wherever you go, whatever you do you will be watched." He paused, "There is a cell phone on the drawers behind you."  
My father turned seeing it, his eyes lit up.  
"I know what you're thinking," The blue eyed man said softly, "Don't. Because before you pressed the 1 on 911, your daughter will be dead."  
I tensed at this, but he continued not noticing.  
"Rule #2 you do not try to call or contact anyone because if you do I will kill your daughter, not because I want to but because those...are...the ..rules. You're a professional Nathan, so am I! If we both work to the best of our abilities, by this time tomorrow it'll be like we never even knew eachother. So if you want to see your daughter alive, don't say a word. Now...tell me you understand."  
"I understand." My father said dully.  
"Good. Now go back to Bridge View. Take the Chevy. No detours. No police. Rule #3 you have until five this afternoon."  
The conversation ended.  
The blue eyed man walker over to the computers, pressing a button on his watch. It beeped twice.  
"The clock starts now." He whispered. 


	3. All I need is in my Little Black Bag and...

He had an earpiece on now, and he was pacing rapidly back and forth across the floor. He looked like a caged beast.  
  
"You know you can wear a hole in the floor if you do that long enough?" I informed him.  
  
He threw me a very sour look. Back and forth, back and forth, the floor boards creaking under him.  
  
"Alright that's enough!" I said impatiently, I got up and grabbed the arm of his shirt to stop his pacing, "You're starting to make me dizzy!"  
  
"Deal with it!" He snarled.  
  
"My aren't we testy?"  
  
He threw me another look that said, "Another word and you'll be worse than dead."  
  
"Ok..ok I'll shut up now."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Uh could someone show me to the powder room?"  
  
"Huh? What the hell is that?!" B asked turning in his chair to look at me.  
  
"She means the bathroom." The blue eyed man said sighing.  
  
"Well damn, why didn't she just say that?! Damn princess..damn fancy words..." He continued damning my vocabulary terms.  
  
"It's down that hallway, last door on the right. Don't open any other doors." Blue eyed one said, going back to his pacing.  
  
I nodded, turning around and stumbling over a chair. It tipped over, spilling a black leather jacket on the floor. I set the chair back up and put the leather jacket back on it and walked to the bathroom. I followed the directions exactly and found myself in a nicely painted bathroom. I closed the door with a sharp click. I nearly gasped when I saw the door had a lock on it. Quietly, I turned it all the way so that it locked.  
  
With a breath of relief, I turned to inspect my reflection in the mirror above the sink. My hair was a dignified mess. I made a noise in the back of my throat, which sounded like disgust. I spotted a brush on the sink countertop and began to brush my hair out. In a few moments I had managed to tame my wild hair somewhat. I also washed my face and took my once in a lifetime opportunity to use the bathroom, before I took a look at the wallet I had snatched from the black leather jacket when I had purposefully spilled it to the floor.  
  
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. The bangs sounded on the door. I quickly stashed the wallet in the makeup cabinet.  
  
I cleared my throat ( don't sound too guilty!)  
  
"Uh yeah... Trying to use the loo here!" I yelled trying to sound annoyed.  
  
I heard a groan on the other side of the door, I could almost imagine whoever it was, rolling their eyes.  
  
"The Boss said you might want your bag."  
  
My brow furrowed, "What bag?"  
  
"The one you packed to stay overnight at a friends in a week."  
  
Holy shit! I had forgotten it! I opened the bathroom door fast as lightning. Mikes stood in the hallway holding my black backpack.  
  
"Oh my god! Thank you soooo much!" I squealed, jumping forward and hugging him. I think I scared him off because he mumbled something and made a quick getaway. I shrugged and closed the door again.  
  
I thanked the Lord in all the languages I knew (including Elvish) as I pulled out a pair of Paris Blue jeans and a long close fitting long sleeved black shirt, along with my makeup bag. I gave out a girlish giggle and got to work. When I was done beautifying myself, I retrieved the wallet from the cabinet. It was brown leather. Nice, whoever owned it had style. I opened it to reveal a BlockBuster card and...  
  
"HOLY SHIT!" I whispered. One one hundred bill, five fifties, and some twenties, fives and ones. I took the hundred, two twenties and a dollar and put them in my pockets, ya know just in case we went shopping....yeah right.  
  
I was about to close the wallet when another card caught my eyes. I pulled it out and nearly dropped it in shock. A driver's license. Not just anyone's license, it was the Blue eyed one's. So...we meet at last. I made a mental note of his name and then pocketed it along with the hundred. I then put on my leather jacket and put on my black boots (thank god once again for my black bag) and made my way back to my captors.  
  
The blue eyed one was back to his pacing, he was saying something like, "Oh and Nathan, don't lose the phone."  
  
"Damn!"  
  
I turned to see B looking wide eyed at me. His gaze was followed by everyone else's. Whoa, some entrance.  
  
"How do I look?" I said trying to sound like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's.  
  
"Stunning..surprisingly enough." Blue eyed one said frowning slightly, as he took a sip of some gold liquid from a fine crystal glass next to him.  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment, Patrick Koster." I said dryly, plopping down into an armchair, putting my feet up on a coffee table.  
  
"What?!" He choked on his drink. I smiled.  
  
"What? That is your name, isn't it?" Oh this was too much fun!  
  
"Who told you?" He threw a menacing glance at Mikes.  
  
"Whoa down there, tiger! Who said anyone had to tell me?"  
  
"How?" He asked coldly.  
  
"I'm phsychic," I whispered raising my eyebrows, "Oh plus..." I whipped out his driver's license, holding it between my pointer and middle finger, "I believe it does mention your name on this somewhere."  
  
Patrick's eyes widened, in two strides he had snatched it from me.  
  
"Where's the wallet?" He demanded of me.  
  
I removed it from my pocket and handed it to him. "You know, for someone in your line of work and HQ set in New York City, you should be more careful with making sure a thief isn't in your midsts."  
  
"Thanks for the advise.' He replied sarcastically, looking through the wallet.  
  
"No problem."  
  
He slammed it shut and turned to me, "I had a hundred in here."  
  
I sighed and handed him the money.  
  
"And the twenties.."  
  
"Damn!"  
  
"And the one."  
  
"Jesus Christ! What do you do?! Count your money?!"  
  
"Yes." He said shortly.  
  
"Figures." I mumbled, sliding down into the chair, sulking.  
  
He pocketed his wallet and smirked.  
  
"What?" I asked annoyed.  
  
"It's been a while since I've been pick pocketed."  
  
"Expect the Unexpected, Koster."  
  
"Yes," he whispered, "I had forgotten. That's one of the basic rules of the game." He walked over to the screens where B was.  
  
"Goddamnit B," He muttered, "Keep your eyes on the screens and not on our lovely hostage."  
  
I chose to ignore the latter statement and said instead, " Um thanks for the bag. I would call you all my saviors if, um we weren't in this..uncomfortable predicatment. Hell, I might even hug you! Well I already did hug one of ya so.." I tapered off.  
  
"Who?" Patrick asked. Mikes hung his head.  
  
"Damn Mikes, you being a ladies man," B exclaimed laughing, " You need to stop that shit!"  
  
"Shut up B," Patrick mumbled, "and watch the damn computers." 


	4. A nice Family Drama and a Sadistic Son o...

Disclaimer: One again I own nothing except for the underlining plot of this story. God that sucks. Enjoy!  
  
I brought the black bag over to the couch with me. I withdrew my cd player, putting in Queen of the Damned and turning the volume up, I sank into the dark lyrics and headbanging music. The base vibrated in my being, the angry, desperate voices echoing in my limbs. I felt like dancing, but I was surrounded by a room of men. So instead of getting up and shaking it, I started to walk from one end of the room to the other. Back and forth, back and forth. Head nodding to the pulsating rhythms.  
  
Someone grabbed my wrist. I turned around to see Patrick saying something. I pressed the pause button.  
  
"You rang?" I asked.  
  
"I can hear that bloody thing across the room!"  
  
"And...?" I asked, using my teenage girl annoying powers.  
  
"It's too fucking loud!" He was starting to get irritated.  
  
I yanked my wrist out of his grasp. "Deal with it!" I sneered, throwing his earlier words back in his face.  
  
I knew then that I had overstepped the line. His expression was that of cold fury. He took a menacing step forward...  
  
"Boss, we got trouble with the lady. You better come here." B said.  
  
Saved by the loudmouth. I would have to kiss him for that.  
  
Patrick gave me one more glowering look before he spun around and strode over to the computers. "What the hell...!" He exclaimed, picking up the phone and hitting the speed dial button.  
  
I turned the music down and headed over to the table where B sat watching the screens. Patrick had gone back to his pacing, trying to walk off his anger.  
  
"I thought Nathan had explained the rules quite clearly." Came his chilling voice.  
  
Patrick was talking to my mother. I could see her on the screen. She was sitting up in bed, holding the phone tightly in her hand. I slipped back the headphones, and listened intently.  
  
"Put the cell phone back." Patrick said with an air of command.  
  
I saw my mother slowly move the cell phone out from under the covers and put it back on the bedside table next to her.  
  
"That's better. Think of the benefits, Maggie," he said softly, "This experience will bring you and your family much closer than a ski trip....or the occasional sponge bath."  
  
"You sick son of a bitch!" My mother growled, "You touch one hair on my baby's head and I'll..."  
  
"You'll do what?! You were about to say something personal...I think?" Patrick purred.  
  
Mother gulped back whatever shad had been about to say, "No."  
  
"That's a good girl."  
  
Patrick stopped pacing and came over to the table. He leaned over B, looking at the screens. "The remote is to your left. Pick it up." He ordered.  
  
Mother didn't move.  
  
"Pick it up!" He demanded. I winced at his tone of voice.  
  
She picked it up.  
  
"Turn it on." He said coldly.  
  
Shaking slightly, she pressed the power button. The TV came to life.  
  
"Try HBO." Patrick suggested.  
  
Mother changed the channel. Gunfire sounded from the TV. War Movie.  
  
"No," Patrick sighed, "I've seen this before. A bit too violent. You'd be better off with a nice family drama." He advised.  
  
Mother hung up and with a cry threw the phone from her.  
  
Patrick hung up as well, looking very pleased, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"Why did you do that?" I no more than growled.  
  
"What?" He asked vaguely, adjusting his watch.  
  
"You..you...you like it! You enjoy watching people suffer! It turns you on!!!!" I shouted incredulously, "But why us?! We have done nothing to you!!! WHY?!"  
  
"Like you said, I enjoy it. Here's a lesson for you Little One and the sooner you learn it the better. The World is not a fairytale land. The wicked witch wins and Princes never do come to wake up the sleeping maidens. People get hurt.....people die," He towered over me, looking down into my face, but his gaze wasn't cold but more indifferent, as if he were merely stating a fact, "And more often than not goodness fails while evil goes on to destroy again. This is the real world, Jessie."  
  
I was horrified with what he had said.  
  
"You believe that?" I asked.  
  
"There is nothing to believe when it's a fact of the world."  
  
I don't know why this angered me but it did and I found myself biting out a reply, "Then I pity you." I spat coldly.  
  
"You....what?" He seemed insulted by this.  
  
"I pity you." I repeated.  
  
"Don't. I'm loving every minute of it. Every second of your fear, every second of your doubt. I love it." He breathed down into my face.  
  
He must have seen me shake in my anger because he cocked his head a little and asked softly, "What now, Jessie? You want to hurt me, don't you?" He smiled, "Go on, Jessie, let the anger out. You want to kill me, don't you? Come on then...."  
  
I stood ridgedly, shaking from my fury building up inside my chest like a scream. I wanted to scratch out those blue eyes of his. His smile widened as though he knew what I was thinking. I suddenly understood what he was doing. He wanted me to lose it. But why? Because he is a sadistic son of a bitch, that's why.  
  
I shook my head, "Not today, Mr. Koster, not today."  
  
I then put my head phones back on, turned up the volume once again, and spun on my heel and walked away from him. I silently exhalted at the cross and sour look on his face as he walked to the kitchen to get a beer. 


	5. Waking the Demon and the Smell of Fear

Patrick could make someone suffer but I could annoy the hell out of him. And it felt so good to see him crawl with irritation as I put on the most base blowing, screeching screaming song I could and turning up the volume.  
  
"Turn that bloody thing down!" Patrick roared.  
  
I turned it up, pretending I hadn't heard him.  
  
Oh the look on his face was priceless when he realized I had dilbrately disobeyed him. His shock was soon replace with anger. He strode over to me and grabbed my wrist that held the player and pressed the pause button.  
  
"Turn it down." He growled low.  
  
"Screw you." I said angrily, pushing his hand off me and turning my back on him, pressing the play button the music resuming it's loud pitch.  
  
I was harshly spun around, Patrick's hands bruising my arms. My eyes widened slightly afraid. He was inches from my face. He pulled the headphones down, pulling at some of my hair at the same time. Ok, he was pissing me off now.  
  
"Give it to me." He commanded dangerously, holding onto the cd player.  
  
I leaned in a little.  
  
"Bite me!" I hissed.  
  
In a vicious manner he ripped the player out of my hands and threw it against the wall to his right.  
  
It shattered against the wall. Patrick strode away leaving me in shock.  
  
It lay on the floor, bits and pieces strewn and scattered about. The sound had been taken away so quickly that my ears thrummed with the sudden silence. The top had come off of the player, the cd was still spinning. The thrumming in my ears became a dull pounding. My blood rushed through my veins , pumping me with adrenaline.  
  
I looked up from the mess that had once been my salvation, my eyes landing on Patrick's figure. Music started to play in my head. The music of the still spinning cd. It began to grow in volume.  
  
Drowning deep in my sea of love  
  
Both of your servants are dead  
  
(will you give into me?)  
  
My hands clenched at my sides. That did it! I started to walk over to him. The angry lyrics blared in my ears.  
  
It's what's left of my human side  
  
It's only changing in me  
  
Mind over reflection  
  
When suddenly it changes  
  
Violently  
  
It changes  
  
I stood in front of him now.  
  
I know there's no turning back now  
  
He was no more than halfway turned toward me when my fist connected with his jaw, sending him reeling backwards.  
  
YOU'VE WOKEN UP THE DEMON IN ME  
  
None of them saw it coming, which is maybe why I was given that moment of shock to use to my advantage. I lunged at Patrick sending us both crashing to the floor. I had thrown myself off balance and he ended up on top of me, pinning me down. His body covered mine except for my right leg. I struggled against him. He was pissed. But there was something else, he seemed pleasingly surprised.  
  
"What are you going to do now, Jessie?!" He asked, laughing.  
  
"This!" I said through gritted teeth. I raised my leg suddenly, it connected with the back of his head and I enjoyed the cry of pain he let out as he rolled off me. I switched our positions so that I was straddling him. I gave him at least two more good punches before Mikes and B pried me off of him.  
  
I was breathing heavily. Mikes and B were on either side of me, holding me back. Patrick slowly got to his feet. And with the same slowness he turned to me, he tenderly touched the side of his lip to pull back his hand and find it tinged with blood. I had drawn a thin line of blood from the corner of his mouth. He looked down at it shocked and licked some off. It was almost as though he couldn't believe I had hurt him enough to draw blood. He looked up at me, the shock deepening, but once again pleasingly so.  
  
"So the cat has claws and a deadly bite?" He commented.  
  
"Shit, the little bitch can fight!" B said, still struggling to keep me still.  
  
"Yes," Patrick murmured, rubbing his jaw, "she certainly can."  
  
He walked over to me and tilted my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes. "You liked that didn't you?" He asked softly, "You liked the excitement of the fight. Want to have another go, Little One?"  
  
I spat in his eye. He wiped it away, stunned.  
  
"Go to hell, Koster." I snarled deep in my throat.  
  
I knew that he would lose it as soon as I said it. He grabbed a handful of my hair in his fist and dragged me out of the others arms. He pushed me down into a wooden chair, he then pushed it up against the wall making me hit my head. He leered down into my face and pulling out his gun he said, "Lesson #2, Jessie. You are not invincible." Taking out his gun, he put the nuzzle of it under my chin. I stifled a whimper in my throat. I glared daggers at him to cover it up. "You can die just as easily as anyone else."  
  
"I know...but I'm going to see to it that you go first." I told him more calmly than I felt.  
  
"Is that so, Little One?" He whispered, cocking the gun.  
  
I gulped and tried shrugging nonchalantly, "What can I say, I have a sixth sense about these things."  
  
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, "Do you know what I sense at this very moment?"  
  
"How the hell should I know what is going on in that sick head of yours?!" I replied angrily.  
  
Patrick gave a malicious smile and tightened his grip on my hair, forcing my head back. "I sense fear."  
  
"Maybe it's your own." I quipped.  
  
"No," he said shaking his head slightly, eyes darting over my face, "it's yours. I can smell it all around you. It clings to you." His hand that had been in my hair traveled down the side of my face. He leaned in closer, to the space right next to my right cheek, the gun still at my throat. He inhaled deeply and pulled back.  
  
"Smells like Honeysuckle." He remarked, his fingers grazing under my chin. I suppressed a shiver as his thumb lightly brushed over my bottom lip. A shock of unexpected heat laced through my body. What the hell was that?!  
  
"How about you get the hell off me before I make you.." I threatened, glaring.  
  
"You seem to forget I have a gun held to your throat." He replied.  
  
"And YOU seem to forget that when I'm pissed off I don't give a shit! You can take your gun and shove it up your ass for all I care!"  
  
"I'd much prefer shoving it down your throat." He said, pressing the gun into my skin.  
  
A line from the Princess Bride flashed through my mind, "Learn to live with disappointment." I shot back.  
  
"What is it with you!?! Do you want to die?! I have a loaded , cocked gun at your fucking throat and you act as though it were a super soaker! What will it take to make you understand that you are pushing me over the edge of my tolerance, and beyond that there is no mercy?"  
  
I looked into his eyes bravely, then, "You wouldn't do it." I stated boldly, "You wouldn't pull the trigger."  
  
Patrick stood up, a look of cold indifference on his face. He aimed the gun at my head.  
  
"Are you sure of that, Little One?" I saw his finger close around the trigger. I closed my eyes then. A moment of silence passed and then...he fired the gun.  
  
Without meaning to I gave a shocked scream and opened my eyes. I was alive. I turned around to see a bullet embedded in the wall behind me to the side of my head. Oh god, just a little to the right and....  
  
I turned to glare at Patrick, he pulled me to my feet roughly.  
  
"You don't know anything, Jessie. You doubted me, never do it again. You weren't sure and that's why you closed your eyes. Be sure before you prevoke me again."  
  
"Maybe I was just sick of looking at you!" I said hotly.  
  
Patrick pushed me into Mikes arms. I stumbled back, being thrown off balance.  
  
"Take her to some other room before I forget myself and kill her!" He ordered.  
  
Mikes pulled me along the hallway.  
  
"I was still right!" I yelled back, "You couldn't do it!"  
  
I heard Patrick give a colorful exclamation of fury as Mikes pulled me into another room and closed the door. 


	6. Hungry and Dizzy not a good combo

I spent the next twenty minuets muttering curses about Patrick Koster under my breath and pacing the small guest bedroom I was now in. After a while I plopped down on the bed and gave an outraged sigh. Mikes, who while I had been venting, was playing cards. Solitare, it looked like.  
  
"Sorry." I murmured softly. He raised his head for only a second and then concentrated on his game once more.  
  
I sat in silence for a long time, say about fifty seconds when I broke down. "Look, I know I'm in no position to ask for favors here, but you're the only one who seems to understand the meaning of the word kindness. Would it be at all possible for you to get my black bag from the other room and bring it here?"  
  
The only sound in the room was the sound of the cards being shuffled. I bowed my head accepting my boring fate without my bag.  
  
"I'll be back in a second so don't try anything." Came the deep rumble of his voice.  
  
I looked up shocked to see him walk out the door. He returned shortly enough with my bag in tow. I jumped up from the bed like an excited four year old, clapping my hands joyously. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you..."  
  
"Stop that."  
  
I did, still smiling.  
  
"I'll only gibe this to you if you promise to whisper."  
  
I nodded enthusiastically. 'Yeah whatever, just give me my bag!'  
  
"Ok, then." He handed me my bag and walked back to his chair and his solitare game. I started to chant my mantra of "thankyous" again.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Thank you!" I whispered back.  
  
Mikes sighed, "You're welcome."  
  
Then he rolled his eyes.  
  
What was left of my sanity was in that bag. Along with my writing journals, I had the novel 'The Vampire Lestat' in there as well.  
  
I took out the book and began reading. When I want to get away to another place I just follow the written words and place myself in the story. Right now I was standing in the dark, underground crypt of Les Innocents, eyes darting nervously between the coven leader, Armand, and Lestat.  
  
I heard a door open, only faintly, my mind still in the story, but I came screaming back to reality when the book was snatched out of my hands.  
  
"Hullo Patrick," I said dully, "would you mind giving me my book back?"  
  
"Of course not," he answered, "but that doesn't mean I will."  
  
"Give it back." I said still looking at the place where the book had been in my hands.  
  
"All in due time, Jessie, all in due time." He said, his voice light and mocking.  
  
I slowly rose to my feet and walked over to him. He raised one brow, "Something to say, Little One?"  
  
I just stared into his eyes, unflinchingly. He really did have beautiful eyes. He met my gaze, not backing down.  
  
"Please Patrick, just give it back." I pleaded softly.  
  
Patrick gave a slow, easy smile, "When a lady begs, a gentleman must always oblige."  
  
He handed me the book. I reached for it uncertainly, afraid that he would pull it back at the last second. I snatched it out of his hands and clutched it to my chest, taking a step back.  
  
"I hope your surroundings are pleasant enough, of course the guard is a bit extra but," he paused smiling, "we do try."  
  
"Cut the crap." I said to him, "And get out."  
  
"What about thank you? Etiquette and manners?"  
  
"Well considering you're a criminal I don't expect you to have those." I replied icily.  
  
"Well you certainly are no lady."  
  
"And you are no gentleman despite what you claim! Now get out!"  
  
"What if I'd rather stay here?" He raised another brow.  
  
I smiled sarcastically, "As much as I'd LOVE that, I believe you have another threatening phone call to make."  
  
"Yes, I believe you're right." With that he walked out.  
  
Insufferable bastard.  
  
I'd like to.....beat him to a bloody pulp. Hang him by his pale neck and put up a sign next to him, warning away bastard....good looking.....terrible good looking......  
  
Shit! Was I falling for him. Goddamnit why me!?! Why?! Why, god, why?! That dizzy feeling I had felt when he stood over me was not attraction. No, of course not. I was dizzy from lack of food. Yes! That was it, it was well past breakfast by now! My stomach grumbled in reply. I smiled in relief. I hadn't eaten all day, of course I would be dizzy, of course, it's the only logical explanation. There was NO attraction what so ever! None!  
  
My tummy growled again.  
  
I sighed wistfully. "Hamburgers would sound nice right about now."  
  
Mikes threw a glance at me. He made for the door, "Peanut butter and jelly ok?" he asked.  
  
Another rumble.  
  
"I think you can take that as a yes." 


	7. Payback and Pissing off Lover

I sat on the bed quietly, twiddling my thumbs. I stopped abruptly. I was alone. For awhile at least, that was. What the hell was I doing sitting idly?! I got up and walked to the heavily curtained window and pulled them back just a crack. I was startled to realize I knew where I was. I was in my own building. Higher than my apartment, maybe two floors higher. I sat down on the window seat. What now? It made me so angry to think I was just a mere two floors away from my parents and I couldn't do anything to get closer. I grabbed a red pillow on the window seat next to me to bring it to my face and scream into it, when I saw what it had been covering. I stopped breathing. The vent. The central air vent. My pulse raced making me feel dizzy. I heard footsteps approaching. I placed the pillow neatly next to the vent and plopped down on the bed, pretending to look over my chewed nails.  
  
Mikes came in with two plates. He handed me one. I tried to stop my hands from shaking as I accepted it. I was more than a little scared at what I was attempting. I had pissed them off before.true, but I hadn't dared to ambush their whole plan. While they wouldn't kill me for just being an annoying teenager, but for screwing up their job, I wouldn't doubt they wouldn't hesitate in killing me.  
  
I took a big bite out of the sandwich, thinking I might never eat again. I tried to say as normal as possible, "What do you think about that Avril girl, do you think she's a poser or do you think she's ok?"  
  
Mikes gave a shrug as though he didn't care one way or another, "She's alright."  
  
"Did you hear her new song? Did you think it was any good?"  
  
He moved his head, as though he were thinking about it, "Yeah, I guess so."  
  
I started to sing the song.  
  
Are you aware of what you make me feel  
  
Baby  
  
Right now I feel invisible to you like I'm not real  
  
Didn't you feel me lock my arms around you?  
  
Why'd ya turn away?  
  
Here's what I have to say  
  
I was left to cry there  
  
Outside there, grinning with the lost stare.  
  
That's when I decided  
  
Why should I care?  
  
Cause you weren't there when I was scared.  
  
I was so alone  
  
You! Ya need to listen!  
  
I'm starting to trip  
  
I 'm loosing my grip  
  
And I'm in this thing alone.  
  
I was just going into the willowy "crying out louds" when the door to the room slammed open. I stopped singing abruptly. Patrick stood still and tense in the doorway, like a snake about to strike. He had heard. He lashed out with all of his strength, striking Mikes' whole head.  
  
"What did I say about noise?" He asked softly, full with disbelief.  
  
He then turned to me, straightening his wrist watch which had turned over when he had hit Mikes. He leaned in a little and whispered coldly, "Daddy's smart little girl, aren't ya?"  
  
I stared at him unblinkingly.  
  
"You better hope your mother didn't hear that." He threatened.  
  
He spun around and slammed the door behind him.  
  
My ears buzzed. I heard murmured voices outside of the door. And then there was silence. Even the buzzing had stopped. It was as though someone had muted everything. It was a waiting silence. Something was coming. An image flashed through my minds eye of a jack in the box jumping out at me with that malicious smile.  
  
All around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel  
  
The monkey thought it all was fun  
  
Pop! Goes the weasel  
  
POP!  
  
The door banged open so hard I thought the glass would shatter.  
  
Goes the weasel.  
  
"We're out of here!" Patrick barked the order. His head turned to me and his finger flew to point, "Bring her!"  
  
Before I knew it I had sprung from the bed to the vent.  
  
"MOMMY, MOM! I'M UP HERE MOM! MOMMY I'M UP HERE!!!!!!"  
  
I don't know how I was allowed those three sentences or why I wasn't sent sprawling forward by a large fist but all Mikes did was grab my arms and dragged me away from the vent still screaming.  
  
I was pulled into the hall past B, who was till sitting at the table looking at the screens disbelievingly. I heard Patrick order quietly to him behind me.  
  
"Take care of her."  
  
I started to fight then. Teeth and nails, this wasn't controlled, this was a frenzy of blows that I aimed at Mikes, hitting at him any possible way I could.  
  
A slightly rough hand covered my mouth. I don't know how we finally reached their silver jeep (most likely stolen) but as soon as we were, I was shoved into the front passenger seat, I stilled and was quiet. Patrick got in beside me and Mikes in the back. As soon as he got in he glared at me with shaking fury, and I looked back with a tremor of fear running through me followed by the unbearable heat of my anger.  
  
He started the engine and with another scalding glare at me he drove away.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
We drove in silence for a long while. After a while Patrick pulled out his cell and pressing a button the phone started to ring.  
  
"What's on your mind, Nathan?"  
  
A truck passed us and I made the honking gesture a second later he pulled the string and honked back. Patrick whipped to me nearly snarling in rage. I tried to put on an innocent expression, but I failed.  
  
"You have forty four minutes, Nathan." He paused then said, "Forty three minutes." Then he hung up.  
  
My goal the entire road trip was to annoy Patrick. I turned on the radio. Patrick turned it off. I turned it on. He turned it off. I moved to turn it on again and Patrick grabbed my wrist, twisting it in his tight grasp, never taking his eyes off the road. I cried out.  
  
"Leave it off." He ordered quietly, throwing my hand away from him as though it disgusted him to touch me. I rubbed my wrist tenderly. I could see purple lines begin to appear on my pale skin, like branded fingers curled around my wrist. Damnit he had made me bruise. I started to think about ways I could pay him back.  
  
He seemed like the kind of guy who wouldn't appreciate being made a fool of. I was racking my brain for ideas of revenge when the car came to a stop in front of a Quickie-Mart.  
  
"Mikes." Patrick commanded. Mikes got out and opened my door. I looked at him questioningly but I slipped out of the seat. Patrick got out and came around to our side. He towered over me.  
  
"Don't make any noise and stick close to Mikes. Do you understand?"  
  
I kept my eyes on the black concrete below me.  
  
Patrick grasped my chin in his hand and roughly forced my head up to look at him.  
  
"Do you understand?" He growled.  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Say it." The growl trembled in his throat.  
  
"I understand." I said through gritted teeth. His grip lessoned but his fingers hesitated, brushing over my cheek. He smiled.  
  
"Good girl."  
  
He turned and walked into store. Mikes took my arm gently but firmly and led me in behind him. Once inside I tapped Patrick's shoulder. He turned rather surprised to see me there.  
  
"Can I go check out the Zines?"  
  
"The what?"  
  
"Zines. Magazines?"  
  
He looked at me in a calculating way. He then looked over my head to Mikes and nodded, "Mikes got with her."  
  
We made our way over to the Magazine stand. I flipped through a couple and then we turned to leave.  
  
Patrick it looked like had a bag of snacks and soda. He was talking with a fairly attractive young woman, actually he was heavily putting on the charm. He was flirting like mad.  
  
An evil idea formed in my mind. I knew just how to embarrass him. I started to walk up to him from behind.  
  
"Jessie?" Mikes asked low.  
  
I waved my hand at him, telling to leave me alone. I was close enough now to hear Patrick say, "Why thank you, but no, I'm not involved with anyone."  
  
I smiled an evil smile.  
  
I came up beside him and snaked my arm around his waist and placed my other hand lightly on his chest in a possessive gesture. He turned to look down at me stupefied, his eyes wide with shock.  
  
"Hey lover," I purred, "You ready to go?"  
  
Patrick was stunned. He opened his mouth to protest to the woman when I put a finger to his lips.  
  
"Shhh, baby, you'll want to save your strength. You're gonna need it tonight I can guarantee it."  
  
The woman had not enjoyed the little show and made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat and walked haughtily away. I waved her goodbye, wiggling each of my fingers in turn and smiling wickedly. I began to walk out of the store when I was stopped by Patrick's firmly placed hand on my arm. He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "I'm going to kill you as soon as you step out of this store."  
  
I pulled back smiling sickeningly sweet, "Baby!" I exclaimed, "Wait till we get to the hotel room to do that!"  
  
That comment got everyone looking at us. Patrick's grip tightened brutally on me. I leaned in just as close as he had, "Besides you need me. And until five, I'm safe to screw you over." I pulled back once more and pinched and slapped him twice on the cheek. I then turned and walked out the door. The bell signaling my departure. Mikes was waiting right outside the door and led me to the jeep. A few short seconds later Patrick joined us. Roaring the engine to life he scowled. I smiled and turned on the radio. 


End file.
